My workaholic husband wants me to do the childcare, and I feel trapped

A woman who put her career on hold feels alienated from her husband, who often travels for work and wants her to take care of the children

"Your dilemma reflects the single largest post-feminist question confronting men and women. Who is to keep the home fires burning, and what deal should be cut for them?": Mariella Frostrup advises a woman whose husband wants her to stay at home. Photograph: Alamy

Saturday 5 January 2013 19.08 EST
First published on Saturday 5 January 2013 19.08 EST

The dilemma My husband and I have been together for 17 years and have two lovely children, one and three years old. Shortly after the first was born, he took a new job – a big step up in career and pay, and so we moved to a town where we knew no one. He loves his work, spending long hours at the office, often travelling abroad, and there is also a social side, so he spends evenings at events or networking drinks. Since our second child was born I have felt increasingly estranged from him. He tells me he has neither time nor headspace to deal with anything outside his work – including the children. When I protest he gets defensive, as he is the sole income provider. I worked in the same field, but that career is irrecoverable without up-to-date contacts. Besides, he has said the cost of childcare would be far in excess of my earning capability so it's not viable for both of us to work. I love my husband, but I feel trapped, without any prospect of a better future, and find myself fantasising about running away with the children. Is our marriage doomed?

Mariella replies No, not necessarily. But you'll have to learn to spot the light through the cracks in the brick wall you're staring at. I could make it the sole topic of my column and never run out of material from my mailbag. Your dilemma reflects the single largest post-feminist question confronting men and women. Who is to keep the home fires burning, and what deal should be cut for them? Whether they are working in or outside the home, millions of women share your frustration.

The pre-Christmas Asda ad initially drew the ire of Mumsnet with its portrayal of a hard-pressed woman settling down to a glass of wine, having singlehandedly created her family's Christmas, but it seemed pretty realistic to me. It's a picture women don't want to be reminded of, and it confirms a stereotype most of us are trying to escape, but there can't be a woman in this country who didn't recognise her own experience to some degree. I don't have a girlfriend, working or full-time mothering, who isn't almost entirely responsible for what happens with children, shopping and housework, the lucky ones squeezing in a job in left-over moments. I say lucky because with work at least you clock off, which sure as hell beats 24/7 domestic duties.

The point of the feminist movement wasn't simply to set our underwear on fire and muscle into small spaces in the male-dominated workplace but to create a world where the contribution of both sexes was equally valued and no one's worth was judged on their take-home salary. We haven't got there.

Just look at your husband, who is labouring under the delusion that his paid work takes precedence over your round-the-clock servicing position. Where's the give and take in that? You need to disabuse him of that notion. His salary and your wedding ring aren't enough of a payoff for such onerous expectation. I look around and witness women at stress levels brilliantly identified in the Spanish director Pedro Almodóvar's early movie Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, and they are the luckier middle-class ones whose options remain visible, if hard to grasp. At the lower end of the scale women are living like hamsters on a wheel, the only difference being that their lives actually depend on it.

You need to outline what you consider to be acceptable terms with which to continue the arrangement. Immediately I'd go for something tangible, like a night off once a week to experience the simple delights of being an adult without two toddlers. The only cost that would involve is to your husband's busy social activities, a price it sounds like he can afford. I'd also insist on a night out together once in a while, so you can remind him you're not just staff. I'm sure you love your kids to bits, but if you want to save your family you need to start putting your foot down and demanding respect and breathing space. Pick a night a week or a weekend afternoon and do something you'll enjoy, whether it's a salsa class, a writing course, a book club with friends or cathartically pummelling a punch bag.

Once your kids are at nursery and then school, such activities may lead to new contacts and even a new career. Meanwhile your husband needs to be reminded that he's got responsibilities outside the workplace, and the best way to make a start is to absent yourself occasionally, but emphatically, for the sake of all concerned.